My Name's PeeeeewDiePie!
by TheOttomanEmpire
Summary: Three teenage friends, Mark, Christine, and Zoe, find thmselves trapped in the world of Amnesia with PewDiePie himself! With no obvious means of escape, the four Bros find themselves in a tough spot. Summary's better inside. I'm just too lazy to do it well out here. : ) Rated T for a reason. I'm good at violent, bloody horror scenes.*DISCONTINUED*I didn't enjoy writing this enough.
1. Chapter 1 As Darkness Descends

**Readers,**

** So, I became a Bro just a couple weeks ago. I really love PewDiePie's videos, so I felt the need to write an OC story based on Pewdie's adventures through various Amnesia Custom Stories. If any of you guys read my last OC story ('Crap, An Oni!' Based off of HetaOni), then you'll know that I tend to drag things out, but I'll attempt to make this story as awesome as possible, while still not taking me half a year to finish.**

** SUMMARY: Three teenage friends, Mark, Christine, and Zoe, find themselves inside the bone-chilling world of Amnesia. The teens haven't the slightest idea how they've ended up there, nor do they know how to escape. They try to find their way out of the castle, meeting up with Stephano, Mr. Chair, Piggeh, Jennifer, and even the BroMaster himself along the way. As night falls, and darkness descends on the Prussian castle, the friends must work alongside Pewdie and his friends before the cold setting of this story reveals dark secrets, turns warm hearts icy, and costs someone their life.**

** I do not claim to own PewDiePie, Amnesia, or any mental security blankets that PewDiePie's subconscious has created to keep himself from wetting his pants (Stephano, Mr. Chair, Piggeh, etc.).**

** WARNING: Unlike other stories I've written which have been moderately humorous and nothing more, this story is meant to be slightly scary. Beware. If you're squeamish, you'll squirm. I'm good at death scenes.**

**Now, my fellow Bros, I hope you enjoy this. I sure will.**

_**~Otto~**_

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Chapter One

As Darkness Descends

I was lying on something hard and cold. My back and head hurt too much for me to think. I slowly sat up and looked around. I was in a large bedroom, on the floor next to a large plush bed. I heard other groans of pain beyond my own. I felt at my face to make sure it was still tightly bandaged. It was for the most part. I used my scarf to cover up what wasn't.

"Hello?" I asked, inwardly flinching at my raspy, dry voice.

"Zoe?" I saw my friend's shaggy, red hair pop up from the other side of the bed. "What the Hell happened?" He asked.

"I don't know, Mark." I admitted, shrugging and pulling my heavy coat on tighter. "Is someone else over there with you?" I started walking towards them.

"I-I'm here!" I heard Christine's delicate voice call. She was shaking, sitting against the side of a desk. A bucket sat next to her.

"What happened?" Mark asked, dragging himself over to her after he stood up.

She tried to hide her face in one of the skirts of her long, white dress. "W-well, I woke up before you two did. . . As soon as I noticed, I. . ." She motioned slightly towards something lying in the back of the large room.

Curiosity enticed me to see what it was. I regretted this decision immediately. Slumped against the farthest wall back in the room was a small body. A bag covered his face, but his torso was covered in bloody patterns, gashed into his body with some sharp weapon. By the looks of it, it didn't kill him right away. Purple and green bruises littered the body, and blood had gushed everywhere, staining the carpet and wood flooring with blotchy crimson.

That, and the smell, which I will not describe, drove me to run over to Christine's bucket. I let myself be sick for a moment, while the other two turned away, avoiding my now visible eyes.

"You're fine. . ." Christine told me as she rubbed my back soothingly. "You'll be okay. . ."

After I finished, I wiped my sleeve across my mouth and pulled my scarf back over my face. "L-let's get the Hell out of here. . ." I suggested. The other two nodded. We walked towards the door, but were unable to open it.

"We need key?" Christine asked.

"We should loot the room." Mark suggested. "Check everything, and take what we need."

Christine frowned at him. "But-."

"He's right." I told her, walking over to a closet. "We may not know who's house this is, but we do know that we don't belong here, and we should leave. . . Also. . . Doesn't this place seem familiar?"

"A little." Mark responded as he looked through the dresser drawers.

Christine held up a small iron key that she'd found in the drawer on the desk. "Is this what we're looking for?"

I took the key gently from her hand and stuck it in the keyhole. It didn't quite fit. "No, but we'll keep it for later." I told her, easing the key into one of my large jacket pockets.

"Hey. Guys." Mark called to us, his voice barely audible. "Guys, come look at this." He'd pulled a small bottle out of the bottom dresser drawer.

I came over and read the label aloud. "Laudanum." I whispered.

"Like that health potion from the Amnesia games?" Christine asked.

"Amnesia!" I yelled, my sudden loud voice making Mark wince. "That's what this place reminds us of! This room looks exactly like Amnesia!"

Mark shook his head. "You're right that it looks the same, but it's probably just some joke, or prank, or. . . I don't know, but something else." He looked at me, eyes almost red with anger at my stupid thought. "Amnesia doesn't exis-!" He was abruptly cut off as a loud cracking sound came from the door, followed by huge, clawed hands ripping through the heavy wood slab.

Christine screamed, and threw a chair at the large, grotesque monster that half ran, half stumbled towards her. Mark and I ran over to her as the monster recovered. My heart nearly stopped as I saw the creature reach Christine almost a second before we did. It slashed down with it's claws, missing her by less than a millimeter. Mark ran forward and rammed into it, slamming the creature back against a wall, causing a sickening crack. Whether it came from Mark or the monster, the sound made my stomach clench in fear.

Mark pulled away from the monster and ran towards Christine, dragging her toward the door and yelling at me to follow. As I ran, I looked back. The monster lay against the wall, a blackish trickle of blood oozing from it's deformed jaw. It's chest was oddly crushed inward. I stared at the monster for a bit, noting it's resemblance to the monster in Amnesia. PewDiePie, a very popular person on YouTube, known for his Amnesia walkthroughs, referred to them as Bros.

I ran after Mark and Christine again, stopping when they stopped at another locked door. Mark looked back at us. "Should I just break it down?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No." I put my hand up to the door and pushed heavily. "It's one of those doors that not even a Bro could break through."

"Oh, would you stop!?" Mark howled. "I told you! This is impossible!"

I slapped him across the face. "What the HELL is wrong with you?" I asked. "You JUST saw that thing! You fucking killed it! How can you say that you don't think this is real!?"

". . . You're right. . ." He admitted. "I'm sorry. I just. . . This is all. . ."

I sighed. "Listen, let's just find a key and go." I walked away from him, leaving him to rub his red cheek. I looked around the room. It was smaller and darker than the other room, but I could make out a closet. It seemed to be. . . Shaking.

"The fuck?" I whispered. I walked up to the closet, and grabbed a handle. I looked back at Mark, making sure that he could hit whatever was in here. He nodded, so I drew in a deep breath, and flung the door open.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The scream was so loud that I jumped back, surprised. "What the fuck!? You're not a Bro!"

"Eh!? Wh-Who the Hell are you!?" A tall blonde man squealed in a high-pitched wail.

Christine ran forward. "PewDiePie?"

The Swedish man grinned, his short attention span causing him to completely forget about his terror from a second ago. "My name's PeeeeeewDiePie!" He joked. "Are you guys my Bros?"

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

**Thanks for reading, Bros. All y'all are the best. Um, I would love a good review, so if you guys want more, don't be afraid to ask. I know I said it wouldn't be super funny, so I'll probably break Pewdie's mental state. That should get him to stop cracking jokes! Ha-Ha-Ha! B ) **

** J.K., Bros. I won't do anything super evil to him. However, I do need him to be a little more serious, so I'll, um. . . I don't know. Heheh! Um, So review if you liked it! Favorite/follow the story, favorite/follow me, Read my other stories. . . Really, just do whatever the fuck you want.**

** WARNING: Flames will not be tolerated. Constructive criticism is one thing, but if you start bitching at me, I'll do something about it. : ) Just letting you know. **

** Anyway, thanks for being awesome, and if you're not a Bro (Why are you reading this?) then you should subscribe to PewDiePie today~! Wow, did you know that this chapter is only five pages long on Microsoft Word!? O.O Short!**


	2. Chapter 2 The Knight In Golden Armor

**Readers,**

**Thanks to all you Bro's who liked the first chapter! That first review from that guest kind of pissed me off, some I'm glad that some people like it. And for those of you who don't like PewDiePie, here's a little message from one of my closest friends: "The title has PewDiePie's NAME in it! If you don't like Pewdie stories, don't comment! You don't have to say anything! If you aren't a Bro, or you don't like OC stories, **_**then don't read the story in the first place!**_**" **

**Uh, so I forgot to do something last chapter that I plan to do from now on. I don't think I like the idea of us just following one person through the story. I had an idea last night as I was about to fall asleep. That idea was to start writing the story from different perspectives in each chapter. First was Zoe (Who may act slightly different in coming chapters as she gets over the shock of being in Amnesia), so this chapter will follow Christine. : ) **

**Oh, and thanks a bunch to my OCs! Zach, I may ruin you. You shall be a wuss forever more. Muahahahahaaaa! JK. Probably not. : ) But I shall do something to your character soon enough that may or may not piss you off. Corridor full of barrels.**

**Anywho, enjoy, Bros.**

~TheOttomanEmpire

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**Chapter Two:**

**The Knight In Golden Armor Bleeds**

**(Christine)**

I stood in front of the Swedish man, still slightly shocked, but able to speak. "Yes, we're Bros." I answered.

"What are you doing here?" Zoe asked, a slightly pissy tone adorning her thick Russian accent. I wondered why for a second, but decided to leave it be. She was almost always angry for some reason. Just quiet about it.

"I dunno." He responded dully, looking around in confusion. He lifted his hands slightly in the darkness as he shrugged, and I saw a dim glint of dirty glass catch light from a tiny crack in the door.

I snatched the item out of his hand and felt it in the shadows. "You have a lantern?" I asked quietly, attempting to turn it on.

"Yeah. I found it on that desk over there, but it's out of oil."

"What desk?" Mark asked, feeling around the room, using the wall to guide him.

PewDiePie shrugged again. "I don't see it anymore, but it was here."

"In any case," I heard Zoe sigh heavily. "We should probably get out of this pitch black room and find some lantern oil before our low sanity levels kill us."

I was slightly confused for a second by Zoe's idea until I noticed that my hands were shaking violently, and my head hurt like hell. "Zoe's right." I told them, and it seemed like they agreed, as they were already feeling their ways towards the door.

Zoe got to the door first, opening it slowly so that the light wouldn't kill our eyes. It was dim lighting, but a lot brighter than that room. Looking back, I realized just how tiny the circular room was. I guess it hadn't occurred to me.

"Christy." I felt mark tug on the sleeve of my dress. "You coming?"

"Huh?" I asked stupidly, then nodded. "Oh, yeah. Just thinking." He half pulled me down the hall quickly, probably afraid we'd run into more Bros if we stayed there. But maybe he was more afraid of the shadows that closed in around the hallway after we walked past it.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, slightly worried that he'd have a heart attack.

He looked at me incredibly calmly. "Fine, why do you ask?"

I was taken aback for a moment before the thought occurred to me. "Oh, you're just impatient aren't you?" I asked.

He nodded. "What, did you think I was scared?" He laughed a little, then turned away as if he didn't expect me to answer the question.

"Zoe, do you know where we're going?" I asked, watching the long tail of her pixie-like black skirt wave behind her. It was all I could see of her because of the looming darkness. We really needed a lantern and oil.

She didn't answer, but made a small noise to let me know she'd heard me. I honestly hate it when she does that.

"Hey, did you guys find anything in your pockets when you got here?" The blonde Swede asked ahead of us, turning his head to the side so he could see Mark and I out of his peripheral vision.

Mark and I shared a look, then looked back at Pewdie. "You know, I don't think we checked." Mark replied. "Why, did you find anything?"

Pewdie nodded. "I found my wallet in the pocket it's usually in-."

"Great," Zoe said, leaning up against a wall a little ways off from where we had stopped. "We have credit cards and a picture of your girlfriend."

"Well, I also found a packet of matches in the other." The Swede replied, slightly annoyed.

"Why didn't you tell us that when we were still in that room?" Zoe asked before muttering "идиот" to herself.

"What?" The blonde asked.

"She called you an idiot." Mark chimed in. I wanted to avoid fighting amongst ourselves if possible, so I stepped over to Zoe and grabbed her by her huge jacket.

"Come on, guys!" I told them, leading a very quiet Russian through down the hall and eyeing Mark until he did the same for Pewdie. "Let's just go back to that room, okay?"

No one made a sound.

Walking back to the room took awhile because we kept walking to the wrong room, but we found a few Sanity potions and bottles of Laudanum along the way, so it wasn't a total loss. As soon as we found the room, Pewdie lit a match and we walked inside.

"Here, hand me that." I asked, taking the match from Pewdie. I held it in front of me gingerly, making sure not to burn my fingers on the tiny, yet rapidly burning flame.

It lit the way brightly until I got to the small desk that the scraggly blonde had mentioned to us earlier. "Did you look through the drawers?" I asked.

"No," Pewdie answered. "I only found the lantern because I slammed into it."

I nodded in response and started riffling through drawers. I almost jumped with joy when I ran my hand over a large bottle of lantern oil. The match light just wasn't enough. I handed the match to Mark and poured half of the bottle of oil into the lantern, filling it completely. As soon as I switched it on, I noticed a light switch in the corner.

"Well, this is just really convenient." I commented, flicking the lights on and turning off the lantern. Bright light filled the room, burning our eyeballs out, except for Zoe, apparently, who walked over to the desk, picking up a small statuette.

"Is this. . .?" She asked.

Mark and I jumped back slightly as the statuette's mouth moved, and words came out.

"Ollas." The statuette's golden hand stabbed it's sword into the ground. "I am Stephano."

Almost as soon as the statuette stated it's name, Pewdie rushed forward and hugged the small hunk of gold. "Stephanooooooo~!" He yelled, hugging Stephano tightly.

"Be careful, Pewdie." The statuette warned, his French accent almost too thick to understand. "You're going to kill me."

"You're a statue, Stephano." I reminded him, though the seriousness in his voice made me question whether it mattered.

The statue turned it's head towards me. "In this house, we can all die." He turned back to the blonde Swede. "Pewdie, of all people, should know that."

The Swede frowned, but didn't say anything on the matter. "What are you doing in here, Stephano?" He asked. "It's so dark."

The statue shook it's gold head. "I don't know." He admitted. "I just kind of. . . Woke up here."

"Do statues sleep?" Mark asked.

"I remain just a simple statue until I sense a human soul enter the house." Stephano replied. "I'm not sure why it works like that. It just does."

Pewdie went to say something else, but was interrupted by a loud bang on the small door, followed by splintering wood. Mark ran over to the other door and started kicking at it. It didn't budge.

"See?" Zoe asked, rather calm. "The door won't open without a key."

Stephano leapt out of Pewdie's hands and pushed back on the door to keep it shut. "Hurry, Pewdie!" He called, voice strained with the effort he put out through his tiny body. "In the third drawer in that desk! There's a key!" The door snapped sickeningly and tossed Stephano into my leg. He recovered quickly, and pulled his sword out of the golden platform. "Hurry and go!"

Mark dug through the drawer and pulled out the key, running back to the door and jamming it into the lock. "Pewdie, come on!" He yelled.

"Christy and I will stay with Stephano." Zoe told them. Mark nodded and pulled Pewdie out the door before he could say anything, leaving the key with me so we could meet up later.

"What do we do?" I asked Zoe as three large Bros entered the small room.

Zoe reached into her pocket and pulled out a small knife. I'd seen it often. Her dad's old hunting knife.

"Where did that come from?" I asked her.

"Check your pockets for anything useful." She replied, not quite answering my question.

I took her advice and did so, finding a small object in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out and looked at it. A screwdriver. "What am I going to use this for?" I asked.

Zoe grabbed it from me, stabbed it into the desk, and handed it back.

"Oh." I said nervously. "Like a knife. . . I can't fight with knives."

"You can't fight." Zoe commented, rolling her slightly visible eyes under her black baseball cap.

Stephano looked up at us. "You two get ready!" He told us. "These ones won't be easy to kill!"

"Why would you know tha-?" My question was cut off as a Bro smashed it's gnarly claws through the door. As soon as the first one broke through, Stephano shouted a command that I didn't quite catch. Zoe launched herself at the first one, slicing expertly, but had her knife blocked by a masterful claw.

Stephano had attacked the second one, using his small sword to slash through the Bro's muscled and deformed flesh. However, as expected, the small sword didn't do much, and Stephano was smacked away, and he slammed into a wall with such a force that he remained perfectly still for a bit.

"Черт возьми!" Zoe shouted, slamming the hilt of her knife into the side of the monster's dead. It did nothing. "Умри, сука!" She slipped around behind the monster and driving the blade into the back of the Bro's neck, slicing through the spine.

I gave up on the idea of killing one of the Bros, and tried to help Stephano instead. Some sort of silvery liquid leaked from his mouth, which hung open, and his pupiless eyes were hanging half-open as well. I pulled him away from the wall and looked at his back. It was cut open, and bleeding rather heavily. Or at least I assumed that the silvery liquid was blood. As soon as I touched him, he shook me off and stood up, leaving his gold platform behind. "I-I'm fine. . ." He promised, pushing himself back up as he stumbled. He picked his sword up off of the ground and charged forward.

He slashed desperately at the Bro in front of him, slicing though it's stomach. Despite the large amount of blood that oozed from the wound, the Bro didn't stop. It slashed down at the statue, nearly hitting him, but had it's claws blocked by Zoe's knife.

She pulled the knife up and stabbed the long knife straight through it's jaw, so this tiny tip stabbed through the top of the skull. The monster dropped dead almost immediately, but not before raking it's long claws down Zoe's shoulder. She screamed in pain, but cut the sound off quickly, switching the knife into her left hand. " Пошел на хуй!" She screamed, stabbing the last one through the eye. The cut was rather sloppy, but the Bro dropped dead in a matter of seconds.

"Матери ебать!" Zoe cried, slamming her fist into the ground. "Were their claws poisoned or something!?"

"No. . ." Stephano replied weakly, more of that silvery blood dripping from his lips. "But they're covered in dirt. It won't help with any infection. . ." He dragged himself over to Zoe and laid a hand on her hand, making her crumpled and shaking figure stiffen. "Are you. . . Are you hurt anywhere else?" He asked.

Zoe shook her head, lifting her body back up, so that I could see her face. I was horrified to see it covered it blackish-red ooze, dripping down her face, and staining the collar of her favorite leather coat. "No. What about you?" She seemed to have composed herself rather well, and was now worried about Stephano.

"I'll. . ." Stephano trailed off, wincing slightly. "I-I should be. . . f-fine. . ." He told us, but coughed up a LOT of blood in spite of himself. He smiled a bit, then fell down heavily.

"Боже. . ." Zoe whispered. "Stephano? Are you okay?" She shook the small body, but nothing happened. "Hey!" She shouted, panic washing over her. "You need to stay the Hell awake! That dumbass Swede needs you! Stephano!" She shook the small statuette violently, but received no response.

"Zoe!" I yelled at her. "Stop! You need to stop! Shaking him will only hurt him if he's still alive!" Zoe stopped shaking him, but continued to shout at him.

"Come on! You can't give up like that!" She screamed, balling her fists. "No one else will ever die in my arms again!" Acting very unlike Zoe, she started to cry like a small child. Despite the fact that she was 22 years old, and ice cold to everyone she met, her eyes streamed tears like a scared five-year-old.

"_Stephano!"_

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** Dun-Duh-Duh! Sorry for the crappy cliff-hanger, but it needed to be done. Sorry if you Bro's hate me. Oh, what's that? You want to know if Stephano's okay? Well,-! *Gets punched in the face by Zoe.***

**Zoe: Sorry, but I don't want her to ruin the story. Have fun hanging in suspense for about a week.**

**Translations: **

**Russian****English**

Идиот Idiot

Черт возьми Damn it

Умри, сука Die, already

Матери ебать Mother fuck

Боже Good God

** Credit for the translations goes to Google Translate. Thanks for reading, Bros. Review if you liked it. If you didn't like it, then I honestly don't want to hear from you. Constructive criticism is still encouraged, but I still don't appreciate dick wads. : )**

~TheOttomanEmpire


	3. Chapter 3 A Dreadful Absence of Light

**Readers,**

** I felt like I was on a roll, so I decided to give out a short third chapter. My right arm's been tingly and twitchy, and I can't figure out why. I'm not super worried about it, but I'd like for it to stop. Oh, and for those of my regular readers who know that I do stories for holidays, this story is my Halloween story.**

**Happy Halloween, Bros. Muahahahahahahahahahahahahaa aaaaaaa!**

~TheOttomanEmpire

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Chapter Three:

A Dreadful Absence of Light

(Mark)

Pewdie and I were running through the corridor when we heard that glass-shattering screech. We stopped instantly and looked behind us through the gloom. There were more screams, but they were filled with more a sense of urgency than the underlying sound of fear. They sounded like words, but I couldn't really make sense of them. They were loud, but very muffled by the thick door, and miles of statue-filled corridor. Pewdie whimpered a bit in fear.

"Come on." I told him, still looking back at the silent shadows. "We should keep going." I grabbed his arm lightly and guided him along gently until he gained enough momentum and courage to move on his own.

"I wish Cry were here." Pewdie muttered to himself, just loud enough for me to hear. "Amnesia doesn't scare him as much as it does me."

I shook my head. "Well, he's not here. You'll be just fine with me." I told him that, but felt more concerned than I probably sounded. I had recognized Zoe's deep accent within the agonized screeches. I wondered vaguely if she and Christine were alright. Then I thought of the small statue. . .

"Do you think Stephano's okay?" Pewdie asked me before I could say anything.

I nodded. "I'm sure he's fine." I lied a bit. I didn't want to lie, but I needed to. I couldn't let him freak out too much. He was already in a terrifying place with giant grunts chasing after him.

"God, this sucks. . ." I whispered to myself. "Hey, come on, Pewdie." The taller man had stopped walking, and was facing the direction the screaming had come from. He wasn't really listening to me, so I grabbed onto his arm and tried to pull him along.

I dragged him a little further until I stepped in something that made a splash. "Oh, shit."

"Wh-what?" PewDiePie asked, twisting around slowly.

We both stood still, our eyes glued on the long, water-filled corridor before us. In the water, we could vaguely see a few dark splashes in the water. There was a horrible stench like the rotting flesh of the man Christine found in the first room, but no visible body.

"The water monster is here!?" Pewdie screamed, now fully losing it.

I punched him in the shoulder and clamped a hand over his mouth. "Seriously, one more word and I'll throw you to the Kaernk." I promised him, deadly serious about the threat. I glared down the corridor for a bit longer before deciding just to go for it.

"Come on." I dragged the blonde along with me down the corridor, refusing to look back at the loud splashing the Kaernk's clumsy footsteps produced. We were just a bit faster than that monster, so I decided that we were safe as long as we kept moving. I felt slightly less than terrified as we ran through the turbulent water. My heart stopped as something rammed into my back, sending me flying across the corridor.

"Damn it!" I screamed, my back in pain. My vision blurred, and it got worse if I sat up, so I just lay there for a bit, watching the flashing silver of something attacking something else. Then things kind of got dark. Too dark to see. I allowed myself to be carried off.

"Hey." I heard a stern voice call. "Hey!" It called again. I didn't move very much, but I opened my eyes. I winced. It wasn't light that hurt my eyes, but the crushing darkness that still loomed around me, despite the lantern's flickering fire. I sat up slowly, looking straight into Christine's bright blue eyes.

"Wha. . .?" I muttered unintelligibly, and Christine hushed me.

"The Kaernk hit you in the back." She explained grimly. "You were bleeding really heavily."

Behind her calming voice, I could hear Zoe whispering darkly. Red streaks ran down her cheeks, but they were barely visible behind the intense amount of dried blood that coated her face, as well as the majority of her body. As she spoke quietly, something terrible reflected through her unbandaged eye, and the blonde man that sat next to her had something bright layering his eyes, hanging just on the edge of spilling out into the water.

"What happened?" I asked a bit more coherently.

"I told you." Christy responded, slightly ruffled. "You were attacked by the Kaernk."

"Not what happened to _me_." I told her, standing up with great effort. "What happened to you two? And Stephano?" When I mentioned Stephano's name, Zoe wretched over and started screaming Russian into her hands.

"Этот идиот! Почему, черт возьми, он бороться?" She cried, tears falling from between her fingers. "Я мог бы остановить его! Я сожалею! Я сожалею!"

Pewdie tentatively put an arm around her, hugging her close. Surprisingly, she didn't push him away. Instead, she turned and cried harder into his chest, a quiet apology choked back in loud sobs.

I turned to Christine, who was now just sitting in the water, her back against the wall, and her eyes hazy. "He-?"

"He's dead." Christy told me, her voice oddly flat. "I refused to fight, and I let him die. . ."

"It's no one's fault. . ." Pewdie muttered, just barely louder than Zoe's sobbing. "He would've fought to the death for me hundreds of times if I'd let him."

"Но я позволил ему! Я не остановите его!" Zoe cried more. I was glad, for once, that I couldn't speak Russian. I'd only heard Zoe cry once. The day she became an orphan for the third time.

"Zoe." I walked over to her and turned her head to face me. "It wasn't your fault." I told her, making a guess of what she'd been crying. "You need to calm down. I know for a fact that you would never let anyone die if you could stop it."

She sniffled for a second, the bandage on her left eye becoming as wet as the water around my ankles. "I. . . But I could've. . ."

There were a few moments of quiet before PewDiePie stood up, pulling Zoe with him. "Well, it's about time we got moving, Bros." He told us, wiping something away from his eyes. I made note of how he seemed to be holding up Zoe's body. She just kind of hung there, her red eye more distant than a dead man's.

We walked down the long, dark corridor for a while longer, until we reached a small wooden door. Even though it didn't seem quite fair, since there was just the one, flimsy door, I was nearly certain that someone was going to come after us. Or some_thing_. I shivered with dreadful anticipation as we neared the small, vertical slab of wood.

"What's in there?" Christine wondered quietly.

Pewdie shrugged, accidently shifting Zoe a centimeter away from her. "I don't know."

"Do we have to go in?" I wondered, looking around for another door. "This is creeping the Hell out of me. . ."

"We don't have a choice." Zoe said, straightening her body, and grabbing the small brass handle. "There isn't any other way. If there was, then surely we would have seen it." Before anyone could talk her down, she pulled out her first father's hunting knife and pulled the door open quickly, holding the knife up in defense.

Unfortunately, it wasn't her who was in danger.

We heard a loud, irritated moan from a bit behind us, and I spun around to see something huge coming at Christine. It looked like one of those knight armor statues we saw at the beginning of the tunnel, but it was slightly larger, and it was moving. Quickly.

It came up behind Christine and knocked her aside, slamming it's steel hand into the side of her face. She hit the floor with a dull thud, and I saw a small amount of blood drip from her slightly parted lips.

Zoe ran back our way, shouting in Russian. "Если вы ей больно, я тебя убью!" She screamed, running at the thing, and driving her father's knife into a chink in it's armor. It did nothing but anger the monster, so it slammed a fist into her stomach, and raised it's sword as Zoe doubled over in pain and surprise. I pulled her away before the sharp object was brought down, but she collapsed in a corner, coughing and rasping for breath.

I noticed something off about the way the thing moved. "Hey, Pewdie, give me a match!" I told him, thrusting a hand out toward him. "Quickly!" I urged as he hesitated.

As soon as he handed me the match, I opened up a container of oil, and splashed it onto the monster's body, then threw the match at it.

The thing screamed as it erupted in flames. I was slightly taken aback by how quickly it disintegrated, but the monster slowly vanished.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

** You know what, I really don't think I can keep this up. I realize that this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but I can't keep writing for much longer. My right shoulder (My dominant side) keeps popping out. I can pop it back in, and I've been to the doctor's office, but the pain is **_**killing me**_**. Also, I'm taking part in National Novel Writing Month this year with my older sister. A little fun for my birthday, I guess. Anyway, whether I end up participating in NaNoWriMo or not, this will be the last chapter I post until at least December.**

~TheOttomanEmpire


	4. Chapter 4 Insanity Ensues

**Readers,**

** Hey, so I kind of lied. I'm still doing NaNoWriMo, but me shoulder stopped hurting, so I decided to type some more. How's that for good luck? Anywho, this chapter we get to see how this place is affecting everyone. What will happen to Zoe's fragile mind inside the world of Amnesia? Can the teens build up the courage to continue? And how will they cope when the unthinkable befalls them in hell? All this and more will be touched upon in this chapter.**

**Enjoy,**

~TheOttomanEmpire

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

Chapter Four

(Zoe)

Inquiring of Insanity

My eyes snapped open as soon as I awoke, and I shot up, pulling out my father's knife. "умереть!" I shouted, my own language sounding a bit foreign to me.

"Hey!" Mark jumped back, narrowly avoiding my blade. In his hand was a strip of cloth that looked suspiciously like Christine's shrug. I sat myself down heavily, letting out a sigh of relief as I hit the rocky ground. Mark hopped back on one foot, landing a little ways back from me, so he was no longer blocking the lantern.

"Что. . . Что случилось?" I asked incoherently. I didn't realize until after I'd asked the question that I was speaking Russian. "I-I mean, what happened?"

"You don't remember?" The boy raised an eyebrow, soft gold light reflecting off of his outline from the lantern. I shook my head, and he smiled slightly. "I guess it's better if you don't, then." He commented before pivoting and stepping lightly over to Christine.

The blonde girl sat against the wall, her head drooped forward slightly as if she was half dead. Her long hair was falling loosely out of her bun, and her pretty white dress was covered in blood, silvery liquid, and. . . Soot? Torn pieces of her shrug were wrapped tightly around her arms in a few places, soaking up good amounts of blood. She lifted her head when Mark walked over, and I winced at the large, purple, somehow bloody bruise on her cheek. Dried blood was frozen, half trickled down from her temple.

"Ch. . . Christy?" I asked, getting her hollow attention to turn to me. "Are you okay!?" I dragged myself over to her, putting a hand to her bruised cheek.

"What's wrong, Zoe?" She asked. I looked at her in horror and awe as the bruises and cuts disappeared. All that remained of what I had seen was her bruised cheek, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd thought. I sat there for a second, then swallowed my shallow breath.

"Nothing. . ." I said, whispering Russian under my breath. "Что это было?" I stood up slowly and looked around. I didn't see that idiot Swede anywhere. "Where's that dumbass?" I asked.

Mark looked up. "He went into the next room." He told me. "He started scouting for laudanum. You weren't in great shape. . ."

I scowled. "Well, I'm fine now." I spat. "And we need to make a new rule! No splitting up from now on!" I grabbed onto Mark and Christy's hands. "Let's go." I told them, dragging the through the door.

We entered the room easily, with nothing attacking us. I kept wary the whole time we looked around the room, my hand holding my father's knife defensively.

"Nothing in here." Mark commented, looking around with confused, wide eyes. "But I swear, he was just in here!"

"Did something happen to him, maybe?" Christine asked quietly.

"I doubt it." I muttered, staring at the dried blood on my knife. "We would have heard something, and the room would be. . . red."

The other two looked at me confused, but I didn't elaborate any further. Instead, I walked over to another door, a bit further in the room. I grabbed onto the handle to open it, but yelped and pulled away immediately, grabbing my hand in pain. "Черт возьми!" I yelled, kicking the door. The skin on the palm of my hand was covered in a thick, raw burn. "How the hell did that happen?"

"Are you okay?" Mark asked, moving closer to me to look at my hand. I quickly pulled it away.

"Hey, where are my gloves?" I wondered.

Mark looked at me. "You're wearing them, Zoe." He told me, raising a confused eyebrow. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Huh?" I looked down at my hand, astonished to see that the burn was missing, and my black leather gloves were still tight on my hands. "I, uh. . ." I stared for a bit longer before turning back to the door and opening it easily. I clamped my gaping mouth shut as soon as it swung open. "L- . . . Let's go. . ." I walked slowly through the door, then paused for a second. "M. . . Mark?" I asked, almost inaudibly.

"Hmm?" He replied, looking around the new dark corridor.

"Walk ahead of me, please." I muttered, unsheathing my knife. I held it close to me as we walked, and Mark nodded, moving a little faster so he could lead us. Christine kept silent behind me, but I could tell that she was eyeing me with unease. I didn't mind.

The three of us walked quickly down the hall, peering in through each door as we looked for the most likely terrified Swede. We checked every door until we got to the last one, the very end of the long, dark hall. Of course, the LPer _would_ go through this door. Mark swung the door open easily, pulling me through as I froze. As the door swung open, the musty hallway air was ignited with the burning smell of death, and rotting corpses. Not just one, but the whole room we walked into was filled with piles upon piles of putrid, mangled flesh. Each body seemed to be releasing this god-awful stench into the air, and each body seemed to have been intricately designed with strange, glowing carvings into their festering flesh.

I pulled out of the room immediately, gagging at the horrible sight and smell. The sour scent of decomposition made my eyes water, and my head spin. I looked back up at the piles of bodies, horror glazing my eyes with a milky film, so it was hard to see clearly. It must have been an illusion. Something that my mind created to make me act like this. "Mark. . . Christine. . ." I grabbed onto Christine's hand in fear. "Is this really happening!?"

Christy nodded numbly, and Mark stood still, petrified by the sight. The three of us stood, staring at the body-filled room in horror, until we heard a shrill, loud scream coming from the door on the other side of the room. Someone was pounding on the door in despair, screaming to be let out. Calling out our names.

"Mark! Zoe! Christy!" The Swedish voice called. "Please, help me! Let me out of here!"

The three of us bolted, running across the massive piles of human corpses, until we reached the door. I grabbed onto the handle, not surprised to find the door unyielding. "Hold on, Felix!" I called, and backed up. "Mark, Christine, move." I told them. As soon as the two moved out of my way, I rammed into the door with my shoulder.

**CRACK**

Every little splinter of the wooden door came shattering out of the door frame. I heard the screaming stop, then felt someone grab me, pulling me up from the wooden wreckage. For some reason, my body had become oddly limp, and I couldn't move. I felt myself being dragged along at only a speed that a desperate person could run at. I tried to cry out, to ask what was going on, but nothing came out of my mouth. I felt the infected wound from my first real fight with a Bro burn, but that soon became _all_ I could feel. I tried to struggle- to move at all- but nothing happened.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

**Please Read!**

**Ending here, because I'm busy with research. A story was uploaded my account today, titled ** X**.**** I did not post this story. This, despite how strange it may seem, is not the first time this has happened to me. It is most likely occurring due to the subject of my research. This morning I woke up and found that the recording system on my phone had started at exactly 1:30 a.m., and continued for 2 minutes, and 36 seconds. In the first minute, all I could hear was heavy, rasping breathing. After that was mostly static. I was alone, asleep in my home when this took place.**

** I also found a variety of photographs taken on my cell phone, which looked as though they had been taken off of the internet. The first photograph, which had also been set as my new wallpaper, was of the Slenderman/ Operator circle. I fell asleep watching Marble Hornets, so at first I thought I was still in my nightmare. That was just before I got out of bed.**

** On the floor, positioned neatly around my bed, were three crude sketches of the Operator circle. The base of the Operator/Slenderman, Der Ritter, is the subject of my research. I think, dear readers, I may have bitten off a bite more than I can chew. Every time I tak down, someone reposts it. So, now, I will use that file to record my findings for the public.**


	5. Chapter 5 Dark Secrets Revealed

**Readers,**

** WARNING: This chapter will ****not**** be happy. I will FINALLY fulfill a promise I wrote in my summary. Though it is only one of three grim events yet to occur, and hardly the darkest, I promise you that it will be sad. It won't make you cry, but still.**

** So, this chapter we follow Christine once more. I am very excited to write from her perspective, as I get to start having my OC's get closer to PewDiePie. In this chapter, we have a one-on-one conversation between Pewdie and Christine, which will shed some light on the three OC's. I realize that I used this tactic back in CAO, but I don't think I care. And who wants to be totally in the dark when my characters make references to things regarding Zoe's parents, Christine's attachment to her friends, or Mark's slowly draining sanity? Not you, I bet. : ) **

** Yup. So, enjoy.**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

Chapter Five

(Christine)

Dark Secrets Revealed

It took us almost fifteen minutes of running before we reached another heavy, red and gold door. Perhaps it was by some higher power, or just sheer luck, but the door was unlocked. We ran through, Pewdie dragging Zoe's limp body just behind him, and slammed the door shut. But it didn't stop the huge monster's that ran after us as they slammed their fists into the door, attempting to open it.

"Mark!" I shouted desperately. He seemed to hear me. He ran up to the door, kicking the handle with such force that it bent in front of the stone, so that the door would never open again without some sort of impossible force knocking it down. Whether or not that was a good thing was yet to be decided, but it was the only thing we could do; a last ditch effort not to die.

Pewdie grunted as he lowered Zoe onto the ground of the Machine room. I suppose it wasn't the safest place to stop and rest, but it was our only option. I gently unraveled Zoe's scarf, laying it neatly aside for her. I also took off her coat so I could see if she was still breathing.

Her chest slowly and shakily rose and fell with her rhythmic, unconscious breathing. I could see that her face was contorted in pain, sweat rolling down the side of her face. Her entire body shook with short spasms, as if she were having a nightmare that felt all too real. Something wet shone at the edges of her eyes where the bandages had been torn away. The torn bandages also revealed the long, gruesome scar that ran down the side of her face, leaving that eye open, dull, and dead.

I sighed in my relief. "She's still okay, I think." I told the other two. Only Pewdie seemed to be listening. Mark was facing away to one side, biting the nail of his thumb, green eyes dull in thought.

"Mark?" I asked, pulling his attention back to us. "You know what happened to her, don't you?"

Mark shook his head, but walked over to take a look anyway. "Did she get cut anywhere?" He asked.

"Yeah," Pewdie told us. "The Bro hit her on the arm. I think it cut her wrist."

I looked up at the Swede in slight shock. "Her wrist?" I turned to Mark. "How heavy is the blood flow."

"Too heavy." Mark said, shaking his head. "I don't think we can stop it."

I stared at him, appalled at the thought of him giving up on Zoe. "You ass!" I said, slapping him. "Suck up whatever it is that's wrong with you _right now_, and save your friend's life!"

He looked at me, wide eyed and confused. I looked back, no doubt rage burning in my eyes. "Now." I commanded. "Please, just do something for her."

Mark nodded slowly, and picked up Zoe's black scarf. "We're lucky that she's already out." He commented. "This would really hurt if she could feel it." He ripped a small strip off of the thick scarf with Zoe's knife, and tied it around her wrist tightly. Then he asked Pewdie for a bottle of Laudanum, which he poured down Zoe's throat slowly. Almost immediately, her face started to flush with color, and her breathing started to regulate.

I smiled, letting out the breath I'd been holding.

Mark stood up, staring blankly at his work. "Give her a couple of hours to rest, and she should be fine." He said, turning away once more.

Pewdie walked over and crouched down next to me, grabbing Zoe's arm and examining her wrist. He grimaced at all the blood, but straightened himself out quickly. "How did that even happen?" He asked. "The Bro's claws would've totally shredded her. This is too small of a cut. It doesn't make sense."

I nodded in agreement, but couldn't think of anything else that could've done this. After a few minutes of simply sitting there and thinking, I stood up, and looked around the room. A large, open area, filled with crates, heavy machinery, and barrels surrounded us. I could hear Pewdie whimpering as he noticed the barrels.

I almost wanted to laugh at our situation, it was so comically impossible, but I couldn't. This was really happening to us, and there was nothing I could do to change that.

"Guys." I heard Mark say as he walked back over to us. "I think I should go scout out the area for a bit. See what I can find that'll be of use to us."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Pewdie spoke up before I could. "Sounds like a good idea to me!" He said, a little more cheerfully than I thought was appropriate, considering the situation at hand. "Better take something with ya, though."

Mark nodded. "I've got my gauntlets." He said.

"How the hell do you have gauntlets?" I asked, incredibly confused.

Mark shrugged. "Well, they're kind of like gloves. And I was wearing them during the last bit of time I remember before we got here, so. . ."

I shook my head. "Whatever, just go."

He nodded and walked away hastily, as if he didn't feel safe standing in one spot for too long.

Long after Mark had left, Pewdie and I were sitting on some crates. He was scanning the area with nervous, blue eyes. I just sat there, my head held in my hands. I shivered, the cold air of the basement-like room getting to me.

"Cold?" Pewdie asked, laughing a bit.

I nodded eyeing him. "Just a little." I replied. "It's summer right now, and I live in Washington, so it's really hot there. I'm not used to the cold right now."

Pewdie nodded like he understood, and stood up once more. "Alright, so I've got a question for you."

"Yes?"

"Why doesn't Zoe seem to like me?" He asked. He looked genuinely confused.

I thought for a second, not quite sure myself. "Well. . . You probably remind her of her dad." I told him. "Her first dad, I mean. She always talked about him like he was the nicest, funniest man in the world. That's one of the reasons she watched your videos."

This seemed to make the Swede even more confused. "Her _first_ dad?" He asked. "What do you mean?"

I pulled in a sharp breath, unsure of what to say. "Oh. . ." I started. "Zoe's dad died in a hunting accident when she was eight. A wolf attacked them, I think. Zoe and her mother were with him."

Pewdie looked horrified. "Both of her parents died, and Zoe was left with a scar on the side of her face. She was sent to an orphanage, and adopted by a couple in Finland. Kind of far away from Russia, but that's where they shipped her off to."

Pewdie stared at me, his mouth gaping open, then looked over at The unconscious girl laying near us. "How could something like that happen to her at such a young age. . .?"

I shrugged, looking down at Zoe as well. Her body was still shaking, as if she was having nightmares, but I wasn't sure. "I don't know. . ." I told him with a heavy sigh. "But that wasn't her last time with a new family. Those parents were incredibly abusive. They got her taken away after about a year. Then she was sent to live in. . . Florida, I think."

"You think?" Pewdie asked. "Doesn't she live there now?"

I shook my head. "No, now she lives in Washington with Mark and I." I muttered. "She's on her fourth set of parents, now. At least they're nice, this time."

Neither of us spoke another word for almost an hour until Mark came back.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

**Fuck.**

**I wrote this at two-thirty in the morning, watching the BBC version of Sherlock, and laughing my ass off, two days before my birthday. For anyone who thinks it would be fun to have their birthday on Black Friday should burn. It fucking sucks. **

**You know, I'm not quite sure why this show is so funny. . . Maybe it's because I'm a weirdo. Three things I want for my birthday:**

**A scarf**

**An apartment at 221B Baker Street**

**Martin Freeman dressed like John Wattson**

**I fucking love Sherlock. I had a dream once that I was Sherlock Holmes' new assistant. The music for the show was playing in the background the whole time, and it was brilliant. I kicked Andersen in the face~!**

** Okay, so those two paragraphs had nothing to do with anything. I just like to ramble. BTW, I'm not a psychopath, I'm a sociopath. Thanks for reading, Bros. Hope you never get killed by a vengeful cabby~! Review, please~!**


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